


Peas in A Pod

by epkitty



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-02
Updated: 2011-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:17:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epkitty/pseuds/epkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was obvious that neither was overly thrilled at the prospect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peas in A Pod

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kyoto_idol](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kyoto_idol).



It was obvious that neither was overly thrilled at the prospect.

Galadriel lay, glorious in her nudity, on the creamy bedspread. Celeborn, standing with arms crossed, hair loose, also naked, glared over her at Haldir, who stood rather dejectedly, his quiver hanging precariously from one shoulder, on the other side of the bed.

“Well, get undressed, Haldir,” she told him. “You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”

His glare said otherwise. But he obeyed her. He laid aside the quiver with care on the floor. Boots, belt, and cape. Tunic, undershirt, socks, and leggings until he, too, was bared. Stocky but still tall. Muscular and scarred. Silvery gold hair, not as long as Celeborn’s pure silver nor Galadriel’s curling gold. He wanted to cross his arms, but Celeborn had already claimed that pose, so Haldir tucked his hands behind him, elbows bent, feet spread, like a soldier at ease, awaiting orders.

The stance was lost on no one.

“This isn’t a trial, Haldir,” Galadriel told him, sitting up, golden hair falling around small and shapely breasts, bird-like hands alighting on pale thighs.

“Nay indeed,” Haldir ground out. “Tis an honor.”

“I’m glad you think so,” and she smiled her contented-cat smile.

“Tell me again, why am I here?” Celeborn grumbled.

“Because you are my husband,” she told him, as if that simplified the affair. “Come, both of you, sit beside me and give me your hands.”

Celeborn slid onto the bed, his hand slipping into hers so naturally, as they had done for many years.

Haldir was slower, less confident, perching on the edge of the bed only after taking a steadying breath, his hand questing forth like a blind man’s seeking the unknown. Galadriel gently caught the warrior’s hand. Her warmth infused both of them, through the touch of skin-on-skin. “This is a blessed thing. None should be ashamed, nor house envy or guilt within. Celeborn, your seed is sterile. That does not mean you have not satisfied me. On the contrary, you are all I could ever wish for; do not doubt that I love you. Haldir, you shall give me a child that will change the world. This is a gift to me and I thank you for it. And when I am gone,” she would not let Celeborn interrupt her here, though he wished to, “when I am gone oversea, you two will remain and find your solace together.” Smiled again. “I see many things,” she reminded.

“We have not forgotten,” Celeborn told her, seeming to have gentled his temper since Haldir’s arrival. He brushed back her golden curls to lay a kiss on her neck, chaste but for the very placement of it, just beneath her ear.

At this gesture, all craft and guile drained from her grin, until it was just a smile, as pure and simple as any girl’s. “And have you a kiss for me, Haldir?” she asked, starlit eyes seeking his cloudy gaze.

The warden was taken aback. “Nay, Lady,” he protested. “We are neither bound nor wed; t’would not be aright.”

“Silly Elf,” she cooed. “You shall father my child. A kiss is no sin between us. And drop such formal titles and words. I am simply Galadriel. I am not a Lady here, and neither is Celeborn any Lord to you in this time. You are with us, Haldir, here and now. Think only of that, if you must think.” She cupped his chin gently, with no force at all in the hold. He let her guide him forward for a kiss, neither chaste nor brief.

Celeborn watched them, to his own surprise, without envy. He surprised himself again, when -- Galadriel having drawn away -- he himself leaned in to claim those warrior’s lips of Haldir’s in something like a kiss, though perhaps it was too forceful, too rough to call it so. But it was not bitter, and it was not mean. There may have been something of love in it, after all.

“Truly,” the Lord whispered to his wife, “you chose him not for yourself but for me. Haldir, you are a jewel.”

“I’m naught but a loyal warden,” he disagreed, his tone surly, though he was not unaffected by the touch of lips on his.

Galadriel pressed her palm against Haldir’s chest, over his heart. “What lies here shelters more than loyalty, and you are no mere warden.”

“Is this true?” Celeborn curiously asked, boldly caressing the taut flesh of Haldir’s thigh.

“My heart shelters nothing but faithful allegiance,” Haldir promised them.

“You lie,” Galadriel whispered into his ear.

“That is my prerogative.”

“So it is.” And Galadriel followed this allowance up with a tinkling laugh. She took Haldir’s hands in her own and lay back, bringing him over her. She spread her long legs so that he could settle between them. She smiled at his expression. He looked like a lost little boy, totally unsure what to do with himself, with his hands once she let them go. Should he touch her? Was he allowed to kiss her again? What was he supposed to look at? Her eyes? Her hair? Her breasts? Her lips?

He licked his own lips and tried meeting her starlit eyes. But could not maintain the gaze for long.

Not liking to fumble any part of his life, Haldir desperately turned to Celeborn, as if for advice, though fearing to ask it.

The Lord understood. Celeborn lay on his side, propped up his head with a hand, his elbow pressing into the pillow, silver hair streaming behind. He grinned and with his other hand he caressed Haldir’s shoulder, his wheat colored hair, his harsh brow, his sculpted back, and lower. “Do whatever you like,” he told his warden. “Just be honest. With yourself and with us.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he whisperingly confessed.

Galadriel leaned up to play her mouth along Haldir’s jutting collarbone and strong neck.

“Touch her breasts,” Celeborn told him in a rumble that carried lust and anticipation in the deep tones.

Since that was what Haldir had wanted to do since he’d seen them, he did, his callused fingers cautiously sweeping the blushing flesh.

Galadriel giggled and instructed, “You needn’t be so gentle! Haven’t you ever touched a woman before?”

“No,” Haldir willingly admitted.

“No?” Galadriel wondered, guiding his fingers over her stiffening nipples. “What have you been doing with yourself, Haldir?”

“I’ve been on the border a long time,” he answered, marveling at the so smooth skin beneath his hands. “There are few women among the wardens. Most don’t care, I think, for the loneliness and quietude of it.” He swallowed thickly and looked into Galadriel’s eyes. “I know little of women.”

“This is your chance to learn then,” Celeborn kindly told him. Then, “Are you any more familiar with men?”

Haldir turned to grin at Celeborn, his lips a wicked line, something fiendish glinting there. “Oh yes. Far more familiar.” Then he returned his attention to the Lord’s wife, hands questing further, detailing the space under breasts, across a gently curved belly, the flaring hips. He dared to kiss the corners of starlit eyes, flushing cheeks, rounded shoulders.

“Am I different,” Galadriel asked in panting breaths, “from the men you have known?”

“As night is from day,” he told her, hot breath ghosting over pink nipples.

“Suck them,” Celeborn growled. “She likes it.”

Haldir’s lips closed over a peaked bud and he brushed the nipple with his tongue before pulling more flesh into his mouth and gently suckling.

Galadriel did not hold back the moan of pleasure such attentions inspired.

Celeborn’s hand snuck between them, playing gently in the honeyed folds of her flesh. She moved into his hand and pressed her body against Haldir’s. She moaned without shame and kissed whoever was near. “Oh Haldir,” she sighed, “are you ready to take me?”

He groaned. Then Celeborn slipped his hand around Haldir’s cock, spreading Galadriel’s slickness over it and the warden groaned even deeper. Celeborn guided the organ to his wife’s entrance and instinct took over. Haldir thrust into the welcoming sheath, hot and slick and just-right-tight around him.

Celeborn watched in wonder.

They moved together, finding a rhythm that suited them, slightly faster than Celeborn’s when he was with her. Haldir was still gentle, though more sure in his movements, knowing now that he would not hurt her. As he thrust, Haldir’s buttocks clenched, his hair moved in ripples, the warrior’s braids still tied. He held some of his weight off her by bracing one hand on the mattress, still caressing a breast with the other. He kissed her arching neck and groaned low in his throat.

Celeborn watched avidly and stroked himself. He kissed what flesh he could reach: an arm, a shoulder, a cheek, a back, a hand. He caressed Galadriel’s flushing skin, the scars over Haldir’s sides.

“Celeborn,” Haldir dared, slowing the rhythm. “Would you care to join us?” Though these words provided no specifics, Haldir’s dark look and suggestive tone did.

Galadriel could only watch as Haldir pulled out and rolled away, wetting his fingers in his own mouth. Celeborn lay back on the bedspread and with his hands persuaded Galadriel to straddle and mount him. She did so with ease and grace, her little breasts hanging down towards his chest as she rode him, so graceful in what some could make a barbaric act.

Watching them with wonder and longing, Haldir reach behind to stretch himself with wet fingers. He breached his own entrance with two fingers and winced against the initial sting of it. He watched the glory of golden hair tumbling as Galadriel let her head fall back, slowly rising and falling as she moved, breasts pointed outwards, arms falling back to support herself on her husband’s thighs.

“That’s enough,” Celeborn seemed to warn, easing Galadriel away, kissing her forehead.

She eagerly pressed herself back into the bedspread, pliant and willing. Haldir moved over her again, kissing his way up from the downy curls between her legs, past the tiny navel and over the hills of her breasts and the valley between until he could kiss wine-sweet lips again.

He kissed her now without question, without hesitation, without fear.

But he did not yet enter her again, instead offering himself up to the lord who took a position behind him. Celeborn’s shaft, slick now with Galadriel’s juices, took Haldir from behind.

Galadriel’s eyes widened, realizing what had happened, but never before having seen such a thing. She was at a poor angle to witness the penetration, and so watched their faces instead: Celeborn’s laced with pure ecstasy; Haldir’s a clenching of pain.

Even for all the ache and sharp pain that seemed to split him, Haldir saw his lady’s face and relaxed his own, managing a bit of a smile to tell her, “Fear not. The pain will be followed by great pleasure. Are you ready to take me within you again?”

Spreading her legs even further, to accommodate both Elves there, Galadriel welcomed Haldir’s length into her, thrilling at the pleasure of it.

Never had any of them experienced such a joining. Celeborn took Haldir took Galadriel, and Haldir pistoned between them, thrusting his ass back to be penetrated, forward to breach female flesh. The other two moved in tandem, meeting and matching Haldir’s tempo, which began in a jerky dance, but became a swift and merciless plunging.

Any more words that pierced the air were incoherent, cut-off, mumbled and shouted and lost to the cool night or pressed against hot flesh. Words were unnecessary, their groaning intent understood more by the way they were murmured or begged or surprised. Understanding grunts and groans and screams and moans in a way that was purely visceral.

They wanted it to last; they wanted it to be good.

The need for a child was lost in the so-sweet pleasure of it. Intense, erotic, so different, so good.

The act of necessity had become an act of passion. And that was all right.

Haldir dictated the movement of their bodies. He slowed, he stilled, he jerked, he pounded, he never maintained one pace for long, throwing off the rhythm, keeping the climax at bay until Celeborn could no longer accept such dictation, and he grabbed Haldir’s waist in two strong hands and pounded his fierce way to completion, showing a ferocity rarely seen in the bedroom.

Galadriel clung tight to Haldir’s strong form above her as he was laid victim to Celeborn’s punishing pace. The Lord pushed himself in, forced Haldir deep into Galadriel until control of any sort was merely an echo and all three were screaming and thrusting and squirming with impassioned delight.

Galadriel came first, riding a long wave of bodily delight that thrilled through every last ounce of flesh as she instinctively clung tight to what flesh and limbs she could reach, whining and crying out through the long, wracking pleasure of it.

Haldir and Celeborn followed in swift order, grunting and growling their manly delight at the mutual, grinding joy, the great and orgasmic pleasure.

After the heady sensations, the charged and nearly electric zing of the mating, after the climax, the peak, the critical point of no return, Haldir could not have said what became of him.

He only came back to himself later. He felt warmth and comfort along both sides of him, heavy and pleasant. Haldir, on his back, felt the weight of the air pressing him back into the mattress, an uncommonly lovely feeling. To his left, Celeborn lay alongside, an arm and a leg flung over Haldir’s sated body. Silver hair, slightly tangled, fell along strong shoulders. Amber eyes were half-closed and still.

Shifting his head, Haldir looked to his right, seeing Galadriel curled up there, one of her long-fingered pale hands resting on his chest, her hair spread out behind her, curling on the pillow. Her clear, starlit eyes looked at him with nothing but love and thanks. “You are a gift to us, Haldir.”

He did not know what to say to this. “If you say so, milady.”

She shook her head teasingly at him and smiled. “What we had tonight,” she told him, “is too precious a thing to let go of. It will not be easy for my husband or I to relinquish you from our bed. It will not be easy to unhook your hold on our hearts. I hope you will not leave us, Haldir.”

“You want me to return?” he asked.

“Aye,” she whispered in his ear. “Can you deny that you belong here?”

“Between you?” he worried.

“No. Just . . . with us,” she implored.

“With both of you. I . . . would be amenable to such an arrangement.”

Galadriel laughed. “That is well, Haldir. Very well indeed.”

= = = = =

The End


End file.
